Child of Darkness, Child of Light
by Kohaku Frost
Summary: 300 years ago, D killed a Vampire at the behest of a village. Now, the Vampire's daughter has fallen to D's care, and the feelings she invokes threaten to destroy the wall around D's heart. Then she grows up and leaves. Can D survive the pain? Not Romance
1. Default Chapter

Child of Darkness, Child of Light  
  
Chapter One  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Hunter D.  
  
It was still and quiet inside the church, and the young girl knelt behind the pew, her prayers for the ears of God alone. She ignored the cold blast of wind when the door was flung open. She refused to raise her head when the Vampire pulled her hair. Nothing would make her respond, not even the bite of his nails in her shoulders, or the low growl that was his voice. She was untouchable, and it filled him with rage. The priest had promised him a beautiful, spirited victim, and the former demand was well satisfied by the white-blonde hair, ghostly pale skin, and depthless blue eyes of the girl praying. But, she was like ice. Her skin held no warmth, her heartbeat was steady and slow. She was unafraid, and it angered him.  
  
Suddenly, the girl twisted beneath his hands, her body turned to face him, and the look of elation on the Vampire's face contorted in pain as the diamond-edged silver plunged into his chest. The three long blades attached to the knuckles that the girl wore had gone unseen for too long, and now, as his life ebbed away and his body turned to dust, he cursed his blindness.  
  
Rising to her feet, the calm, quiet girl casually brushed the dust off her long black jacket and tight black leggings. The black skirt she wore was dust-resistant, and she ignored it. Her low-heeled black shoes clicked on the stone floor of the once grand cathedral as she made her way to the aisle. The relics of the long-gone Catholics remained, though no one practiced their beliefs anymore. The girl herself was the direct descendant of an illegitimate child of a Pope, and her faith in God was what kept her relatively sane after the vampires had killed her family. She was one of the last Lutherans in a world filled with demons and Vampires, but her religion mattered little. She hunted Vampires and she was paid for it. She had learned long before not to depend on faith to put food in her belly or give her shelter, but she was firmly convinced that God had given her the skills necessary to survive.  
  
The thin, willowy girl of thirteen walked to the battered confessional and pulled the curtain aside. The shaking, terrified priest was there, with the $4,000,000 he had promised. She flipped through the sack, pulling out the odd coin to check authenticity while the priest stared out at the pile of dust that was once his greatest fear. Verifying the nature of the money, the seemingly frail girl took out several coins and then dropped the remaining $3, 000,000 in the dented collection plate. Without looking back, she pushed open one massive wooden door and ventured out into the storm.  
  
Sheepishly, the bald priest scurried out of his hiding place and hefted the leather sack. With a sigh he prayed for the girl's safety. The village children would be able to attend a new schoolhouse and church come September.  
  
Miles away and minutes later, in a forest  
  
The whipping wind didn't bother the dark man, nor did the ghoulish shadows. His horse did not spook, thankfully, as it had seen much, much worse. Idly, he wondered if the $4,000,000 offered by the village just down the road was real, and just who he would have to beat to it. It was of no importance; D had more than enough money to survive. It was killing the Vampire that mattered to him, and only that. His one goal was the complete destruction of his race. Apparently, this Vampire had bullied the local townsfolk into offering young virgins to him at the church, and once a week, he would come and ravage the poor girl chosen for that night. Out of the six that had been sacrificed, only one had survived, and she was safely locked away in a mental asylum. He didn't drink their blood; he raped them, brutally.  
  
Thinking of the coming fight, it was a moment or two before D realized what he was seeing. A young girl, about twelve or thirteen, was walking down the muddy road, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind, her thick black coat billowing out behind her like the wings of an angel...in this case a dark angel. Instantly, D could sense what the elderly priest could not: this girl was a Dunpeal.  
  
Quietly, he angled his horse toward her, and he knew that she had seen him, yet she didn't run away. His killing only extended to Vampires and the Dunpeals who had chosen to live like Vampires. To the best of his knowledge, this girl had never tasted blood. But he couldn't be sure. When he was within hearing distance, even in the fierce wind, the girl stopped in her tracks, watching him.  
  
"Girl...what are you doing out at this time of night?" D decided to play dumb, hoping to give the girl enough rope to hang herself. He was disappointed.  
  
"I am doing whatever I please, sir. I wish no trouble, and I can take care of myself." The child's voice was cold and cultured; no voice to be possessed by a child at all. As the wind changed direction, D scented the truth in the girl's words. The Vampiric dust trapped in her leggings was proof enough of her ability to defend herself. So...he had been beaten by a child. Though many others would have been put out, D could see the humor in the situation.  
  
"I can see. Since I no longer have any business in the village ahead, may I offer you a ride to the next town? It is the least courtesy I can provide." D was inwardly stunned at his words, since he well knew that getting involved with people always lead to pain. She was a beautiful girl, Vampire and human blending in harmony to create a small, elegant face of sculpted marble, dark, cynical blue eyes, the still, serene tranquility of her face. She had known pain, and she had triumphed over it.  
  
"You needn't go out of your way on my account, sir. I know not the nature of your business, nor do I wish to, but the village is prosperous, and many trades flourish there." Though her words said otherwise, the girl walked to D, her eyes never leaving his face, daring him to look away.  
  
"It is no trouble." He helped her up beside him, then turned his horse and went back the way he'd come. He felt the pinpricks of metal at his back from the triple, bladed katal she wore, and he smiled in the shadows beneath his hat. Smart girl, very smart, and D felt he might enjoy her company. "What is your name?"  
  
"I am Angelise Sterling, of Sterling Park. And you are....?" Though D couldn't excuse his talkativeness, the girl's name and that of her home gave him reason to be quiet. Sterling Park had been destroyed and ransacked by vampires three hundred years before, and the tales of horror from that fateful night were gristly enough to give D mild shivers. What was worse, he had known the girl's father, Regal Sterling, and had been the unfortunate hunter to have caught up with him after they fled their home. Vaguely, he remembered a small, elfin child clinging to her mother's skirts as he fought Regal.  
  
"D."  
  
"A pleasure to meet you, D. I have heard many things." Subtly, the blades pressed further into his back. "Now, if it is at all possible, I would like to reach Fox Crossing before dawn."  
  
D felt certain that the night would pass quickly, and he was looking forward to it. Those blades were sharp.  
  
End Chapter One  
  
R&R 


	2. Chapter Two

Child of Darkness, Child of Light  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Hunter D.  
  
The soft, soothing sounds of the night eased Angelise into sleep, and though her eyes closed and her body slept, the slim blades in D's back didn't lessen their pinch. He knew she was sleeping, but he would pretend not to have noticed when she woke. Such thoughts, so contrary to his nature, confused him. It was obvious that she could fight, earn a living, etc. Why was he so...concerned for her safety? There was no reason; there was no need. She was completely independent, and it was apparent that she did not miss her family. At least, not that it showed. Perhaps that was it? He felt guilty over murdering her father as he tried to escape the angry mob with her...after the human horde had murdered her mother, of course ...forcing the sweet, innocent little child to kill to survive...  
  
"And...she is exquisite, isn't she D?" Left Hand cackled in the still night. D ignored the parasite, thinking only of how he could make up for the damage he had done to the girl. "Go ahead, ignore me... But you know it's true. That's what humans will think. They'll hunt you down for a child molester. Best not to get involved."  
  
"I owe her a great deal. I must repay the debt incurred by what I stole from her." In his mind, D felt the girl's name whispered across his thoughts. Angelise...such a perfect name for her. The serene eye of the moon gazed down on them as D led the horse through groves of tress, across small streams, and into a nightmare he never saw coming.  
  
D----A----R----K----N----E----S----S  
  
The lycanthrope sniffed the dried leaves where the horse had walked minutes before. He smelled human...and Vampire. His wolfish mind made the only connection it could, so close to the full moon: a Vampire and his young lady-victim. He would have never guessed that his prey was actually two veteran Dunpeal Vampire hunters, nor would he have thought that in the coming flight from danger, the young girl over his shoulder, he would be pursued by the infamous Vampire Hunter D.  
  
The clouds drifted away from the moon, and the were-wolf began shaking as he transformed. Tonight, he would feel the piercing agony of pure silver driven through his skull, but he did not yet know that.  
  
L----I----G----H----T  
  
The sun-dappled grass was soft and cool against her legs, and Angelise could hear her mother singing as she spread the picnic goods out beneath the heavily shaded trees. Her father was sitting well back in the shadows of the carriage; the doors open so he could watch his dearly loved family go about there fussing. On sudden inspiration, ten-year-old Angelise ran out into the meadow, picking as many wildflowers as she could. Her father could make a vase for them out of his magic. Angelise turned back to the carriage, clutching her gift behind her back, her long nearly white pigtails catching in the petals and leaves of the flowers. She ran back to her father eagerly, handing him her impulsive gift. She saw the pleased smile his full lips formed, the twinkle in his dark blue eyes. Then, he began to chuckle and a lock of his jet black hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it back impatiently, bringing a shy grin to his daughter's face.  
  
Angelise felt her mother's hand on her shoulder as the tall, elegant woman pushed a cookie into her hands. Scrambling onto her father's lap, she munched the sugary dessert, amazed at her good fortune. She was too young to realize that she had been given a cookie because they had no other food to offer her. She felt her father smooth the hair away from her face, kiss her cheek and murmur how much he loved her. She was stunned by her father's words, since her never spoke of his feelings or emotions. But she soon understood why he had broken his unspoken rule.  
  
The sudden arrival of the strangers had taken her parents by surprise, and Angelise was only aware of it after her mother screamed. As she looked at them more closely, she realized they were no strangers at all. Why, it was the gardeners and the butlers and the maids from home. It was only when she saw the black fletched arrows sticking out of her mother's chest that she realized that her family was under attack. In a blur of motion, her father had dashed to her mother's dying form, lifting her up in his arms, and Angelise was on the top of the carriage, snapping the horses into motion with the driver's whip. She never noticed the blood on the seat from which the driver had been pulled by the angry mob come to spoil their picnic.  
  
Her father was in the back with her mother, trying desperately to keep her alive, and resist the frenzied bloodlust that rose in him from the scent of the spilled essence of his beloved's life. His wife of ten years, Athanasia D'Loire of Mergandon Manor, was dying in his arms while his child drove madly to escape the bastards who attacked them. He pulled out the arrows and their shafts then healed the wounds as best he could, cradling his wife gently. With her exceptional hearing, Angelise could hear her mother's gasping words.  
  
"Regal...don't let them get Angelise...Promise me..." Her mother's silky singer voice had degenerated into a hoarse croak, and it pained the little girl to hear it. Her father's low rasp answered back in the affirmative, and she knew then, without a doubt: her mother was dying. "My love...take care of...her..."  
  
Her mother's voice fell silent, though life still resided in her pierced body. The deep sleep that preceded death had taken hold, and Angelise felt the mental caress of her father's thoughts. He wanted her to come back inside; the horses would be fine. Angelise obeyed his command, nimbly stepping over the roof of the carriage, slipping in through a window, pulling the heavy black curtains shut behind her. Her mother was protected in her father's arms, and the two immortals studied the porcelain face of the dying woman. Angelise didn't know she was crying until the tears were dripping off her chin. Absently, her father handed her a worn old handkerchief, and Angelise curled up at his feet, crying herself to sleep.  
  
It was the choked feeling in her throat that woke her up, and she quickly remembered where she was. It had been centuries since she had had that dream. Maybe it was-  
  
Angelise's thoughts were cut off as the creature dived down and knocked her off D's horse. She hadn't had time to scream, and couldn't have anyway; the air had been knocked out of her lungs. She saw the horse rear and plunge, and before she knew it, the were-wolf was carrying her away from the road. She screamed once, twice, and had the pleasure of feeling the wretched creature flinch. It's claws dug into the flesh of her thighs, and she could smell her blood. She could hear the monster's heartbeat, and she tried to twist her katal to stab it in the back. No luck. Angelise was slung over the beast's left shoulder, and her katal were on her right hand. Angelise struggled to release the straps so that she could switch hands, but the jerking, bouncing movements of her abductor threw her off balance, and she watched in despair as the weapon fell from her fingers, landing in the mud with a small splash.  
  
With resignation, Angelise did the only thing she could do: she prayed for D to hurry and save her.  
  
End Chapter Two 


End file.
